Page 58 of Beautiful Desire

“Huh? Oh, no, sir,” she replies, still standing there holding my damn coffee.

She really can’t take a hint, can she?

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind seeing yourself out, I need to get back to work.” I gesture to my computer screen, and it’s like a lightbulb went off.

Just when I think she figured it out, she turns to leave,stillholding my damn coffee.

“Miss Anderson,” I call after her, exasperated.

She turns around and once again greets me with a smile. “Yes, Mr. Lombardi?”

“Can I have my coffee, please?” I ask, while motioning toward the mug in her hands.

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry, sir. Of course,” she says as her cheeks tinge pink from embarrassment.

She quickly sets the mug down on my desk before turning on her heel and scurrying out of my office.

I slump back in my chair when I hear the latch click and take a deep breath. Running a hand down my face, I sit up and reach for my coffee and take a big gulp before almost spitting it back out because it’s cold. Not wanting to deal with Becca – or any other employee, for that matter – I decide to finish looking over some files while I wait for the office to clear out before I get myself my own cup of coffee.

I’ve gotten through my first five clients’ folders who I have scheduled for tomorrow morning, when a yawn distracts me. Checking my watch on my wrist, I see it’s just after seven-thirty. Surely everyone has gone home for the night. Right?

Getting up from my desk, I walk over to my office door before opening it slowly. Peering out, I look around, and I’m met with a darkened, empty office. My shoulders sag in relief as I open the door farther and make my way to the office kitchen to get some much-needed caffeine.

Thankfully, when I enter the kitchen, the coffee maker is still on and has hot coffee ready for me. I grab a mug from the cabinet since I forgot mine in my haste exit, lift the coffeepot, and pour myself a cup of steaming-hot coffee. I raise the mug to my lips and take a swig, burning my tongue in the process. Even though I’m not a fan of black coffee, I revel in the flavor as I swallow it down.

Leaving the kitchen, coffee in hand, I make my way back to my office when something catches my eye on Elle’s desk. I take another look around to make sure I’m truly alone before I go check it out. Last thing I need is for Elle to still be here and catch me snooping or Becca to jump out of nowhere, staring at me with that weird, creepy smile on her face while I look at Elle’s things.

Coming up on her desk, I notice there’s a vase with flowers. As I get closer, I see it’s a bouquet of fresh red roses in a crystal vase.

When were they delivered?

I see a note attached and, unable to help myself, I pick it up and read it.

Can’t stop thinking about you.

Paul xo

Anger courses through me as I read the note again. Who the fuck is Paul? Surely, she wouldn’t have kissed me as passionately as she did if she were seeing someone.

Would she?

My right-hand balls into a fist as my left squeezes around the coffee mug still in my hand. The heat from the hot liquid burns my palm, but I don’t care. I’m just about to leave when the picture frame on her desks catches my attention. The picture I spent the better half of the day thinking about.

Reaching for the frame, I pick it up and look at the photo once again, as if it’s not already seared into memory by now. It’s a great picture of Gia holding her son, Nico, and Elle holding a baby with bright blue eyes. Almost the same color blue as my own.

I know it’s not possible; the last time we were together and the baby’s age don’t add up. That’s assuming this is Elle’s baby, and she has said or done nothing to make me think that she has a child.

But who else’s could it be? It’s not Fabi and Gia’s. As far as I know, Fabi’s sister, Sofia, is still in Italy and doesn’t have any kids. Maybe a niece or nephew?

Or it could be Elle andPaul’sbaby. I clamp my teeth down at just the thought. Jealousy courses through me when I think about Elle having a child with someone else. I have no right to feel that way, because she’s not mine and never truly was for more than a night.

I’m about to set the frame down when the baby’s blue eyes catch my attention once again. There’s something about them that seems familiar.

Instead of placing the photo back on her desk and walking away like Ishoulddo, I set down my coffee mug and turn the frame over. Opening the back of the frame, I take the picture out and hold it in my hands. Before I can change my mind, I walk over to the copier, place the picture face down on the xerox machine, shut the lid and hit copy.

Making loud noises, the machine starts up. Blue lights reflect out of the gap between the lid as it makes a copy, spitting the paper out of the far end. Grabbing the still-warm piece of paper, I walk back to Elle’s desk, place the picture back in the frame on her desk, grab my coffee, and head back to my office.

Once I’m back inside my office, I close the door behind me and take a seat in my leather chair behind my desk. Placing my mug on top of my desk, I open my top drawer and pull out a pair of scissors. Thankfully, we have photo paper here that I was able to locate and print on. I cut through the thick paper, getting rid of the excess and tossing the scrap pieces in the trash, then stare down at the stunning blonde,my fiore, but my gaze quickly shifts to the big blue eyes on the baby in her arms.

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